


house call

by verity



Series: mechanic!Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday, Cars, Competence Kink, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was joking," Stiles says. "Or—I could not be joking. I'm a very flexible guy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	house call

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Извещение на дом](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699700) by [meanwhile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanwhile/pseuds/meanwhile)



> You can read this as a standalone or as a followup to the previous fic.

It's raining out, the afternoon turned dark and cool, and most of the light in the garage is coming from the work lamp under the car. When Derek crouches down, he can see Stiles's shirt rucked up on his belly, a dark stain already setting into one sleeve. There's a drip pan shoved to the side, discarded latex gloves and an open box next to him. "Hey, Derek," Stiles says. "Pass me the spanner wrench?"

The open toolbox is next to the front wheel with a few wrenches scattered around it. "The spanner wrench?"

"I got it." Stiles scoots backward, reaching behind him; he finds whatever he was looking for by feel. He has a long trail of oil down one arm, breaking at the wrist. "Something up?"

"Scott's ordering pizza and you didn't answer your phone," Derek says.

"And you're Scott's errand boy now," Stiles says into the underbelly of the car.

"No."

Stiles is fumbling with the box next to him, pulling out something about the shape and size of a soup can. "Scott knows what my pizza order is."

"Or maybe I just wanted to come over here," Derek says.

"Or maybe you just wanted to come over here," Stiles says.

When Derek listens to the quiet that follows, he can hear the rain splattering on the driveway and against the side of the garage, trickling down the window panes, and above that, Stiles's heartbeat, his slow, measured breaths as he screws whatever it is in. "It's your birthday."

"That it is," Stiles agrees, patting the Jeep with his cleaner hand. "A fine day for parties, some time with my baby, and trying to convince my dad he should buy me beer. Speaking of which—"

"I'm not buying you beer," Derek says, straightening.

There's another pause as Stiles crawls out from under the Jeep. He stands up and wipes his hands on his jeans, which are too short and already covered in paint and grease. The shirt he's wearing is one he had when Derek first met him, the muffin on the front faded, one shoulder seam split with scar tissue visible in the gap. "So, is this a—what's the opposite of a booty call? a house call? Now that I'm legal, you want to break off a piece of this? Oh, your face, man, your _face_."

Derek's cheeks are hot. He looks away.

"I was joking," Stiles says. "Or—I could not be joking. I'm a very flexible guy."

"Really," Derek says.

—

The red bruises fade into Derek's skin as soon as Stiles pulls his mouth off, but Stiles marks him anyway; he leaves dark, oily smudges on the groove of Derek's hip, the inside of his arm, the curve of his neck. Derek's ass gets the worst of it, where Stiles wipes his hand off for the tenth time before he wraps it around Derek's cock, jerking Derek like he's always been doing it, hands confident, sure. "Jesus fucking Christ," Stiles says, afterward. "I—jeez, I—" He's holding his body stiff, like Derek can't smell it.

"Those pants have seen worse," Derek says.

"Yeah." Stiles looks down, surveying the damage. "I should shower. I mean—you could, too. You're pretty—"

Derek shrugs. "I'm good."

"That's so gross," Stiles says. He leans in to kiss Derek again, quick, tentative. "Weirdly hot, though."

"Not that weird," Derek says, catching Stiles's wrist, tugging him in again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ladyofthelog](http://ladyofthelog.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


End file.
